


Angel Creampie

by Anonymous



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Hook, Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), BDSM, Creampie, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration in One Hole, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Gangbang, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Hedonist Aziraphale (Good Omens), Light Bondage, Multi, Overstimulation, Rough Sex, Sloppy Seconds, Strap-Ons, Triple Penetration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:08:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26924887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Aziraphale has a train run on him by a wide variety of humans. Crowley supervises them, then takes his turn.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 171
Collections: Good Omens Kink Meme Anonymous





	Angel Creampie

Aziraphale took care of all the arrangements for the scene, which was good because Crowley wasn't sure how to handle it besides flinging out the words COME FUCK MY SLUTTY HUSBAND IN THE CUNT into the wilds of the internet and then telepathically screening for creeps as they came. There were discrete clubs which catered to this kind of thing, he said. He was a member of several.  
  
That was a sentence that took some unpacking- and by unpacking, Crowley meant that he fucked the details out of Aziraphale, roughly, hands pulling on his hair as he snapped his hips in, Aziraphale babbling out all the naughty details of how he went out to get fucked, get wrecked, get completely _ruined_ by a dozen or more humans- but it had been very worth it. It had given him more than a few ideas of what the two of them could do together, and it had brought them here.  
  
The "dungeon" had very little in common with its ancestors. Properly heated, well-ventilated, soundproofed, private, and _comfortable_. The chair Crowley was sitting in gave his throne a run for its money, and the bench Aziraphale was bent over was padded. There had even been a coat check service for Aziraphale's clothing.  
  
He was naked now. The only thing he could be said to be wearing was a collar around his neck: soft, supple suede with a clasp that looked like a snake eating its own tail. His wrists were enclosed in golden manacles, deceptively delicate-looking chains binding them together, and threaded through the eyelet of the anal hook to keep them in place at the small of his back. His bare toes dug into the floor as he tried to get the leverage to rise up to meet Melissa's thrusts, but she wasn't having any of it. She kept one hand planted between Aziraphale's shoulders and dug the fingers of her other into his hip, and thrust the incredibly large dildo she had strapped onto herself in with slow, implacable brutality as Aziraphale moaned and broke down into breathy pleas for more and faster.  
  
Crowley shifted, throwing another leg over the arm of the chair. His dick was straining, and he was straining not to just will the erection away: but the humans would notice, and he didn't really want it gone so much as he didn't want to come in his pants. He was glad he'd let Aziraphale suck him off before the others arrived. He never would have lasted otherwise.  
  
Sixteen humans had answered whatever discreet summons this club provided for its members: three women, twelve men, and one nonbinary person named Eris who, per eir introduction, used ey/em/eir pronouns. They were all members of the club in good standing. Several of them had clearly fucked Aziraphale before, and many offered their congratulations on their marriage, which was a bit of a trip to have to nod through while everyone was disrobing and Aziraphale knelt naked at his feet, eyeing them hungrily, the five strapping into their harnesses and the rest palming their own equipment.  
  
The rules were simple, according to Aziraphale, at least: the odd slap on the ass was fine but no actual impact play, hair pulling, manhandling, choking, and mild verbal humiliation were all fine ("I do actually quite like spreading my legs for all comers, so being called a slut just feels like a simple statement of fact," Aziraphale had told him. The angel had blushed lightly as he'd said it; Crowley's face had nearly caught fire.) but no spitting or actual insults. He didn't wish to be kissed or to receive oral from anyone other than Crowley. Everyone would get at least one turn, going as roughly or gently as they liked, one after another, fucking his cunt and coming inside it if that was something they were physically capable of. They could have a second or third turn if they so desired: for those they could fuck either his cunt or his face, and come wherever they pleased. Whether they took another turn or not, they were welcome to stay and enjoy the show, which would end when Crowley took his turn after everyone else was done.  
  
This was Melissa's first go, and she was the caboose on the train. A few of the people had already left, shortly after they'd had their turn. A few of the others had waited until they were ready to go again, fucked into Aziraphale's mouth while someone else had a go at his cunt, and then left after that. Of those who remained, a few were clearly just going to watch, and at least two were going to leave after Melissa finished.  
  
Aziraphale came with a groan, legs twitching, and then sagged against the bench. Melissa thrust in a few more times before pulling out.  
  
"Enjoy yourself?" she asked.  
  
"Oh yes," Aziraphale said, still sounding breathless and eager. "Yes, very much, thank you."  
  
"You know how to thank me," she said, walking around the bench.  
  
Aziraphale hummed and obligingly opened his mouth.  
  
Crowley thought that he would clean off her strap on, and he did: licking and sucking and taking it so far into his throat that he gagged and drooled on it. And then, once it was clean, Melissa loosened her harness to expose her cunt and Aziraphale wiggled forward on the bench and dived right in.  
  
And _fuck_ , but Crowley knew exactly how good Aziraphale was at that, exactly how he would lick, and curl his tongue, and suck, and how it felt to have him humming as he did. They’d done that dozens of times by now, most recently last week.  
  
Crowley took a moment to relive it: Aziraphale kneeling between her legs, his face glistening with cuntslick, his cock painfully hard and red where it jutted out from beneath his stomach, the pleading look in his eyes that Crowley answered by tightening her grip on his hair and pulling his face back down between her thighs...  
  
Then he snapped back into the moment, just in time to stop himself from switching out his cock for a cunt. That would have been difficult to explain to the humans.  
  
Melissa came with a long obscene moan, letting her grip on Aziraphale’s hair grow lax but not letting go entirely until she caught her breath. Then she sighed, and ran a gentle hand through his curls.  
  
“Lovely as always, sweet thing,” she murmured. “I’m so glad you found yourself a man who isn’t jealous.”  
  
“Oi,” Crowley protested, almost reflexively. “I _invented_ jealousy, I’ll have you know.”  
  
Aziraphale giggled. Crowley could see his cheeky grin in profile before he ducked his head, blushing.  
  
“Oh, like that, is it?” Melissa said with a sigh. She unhooked her harness the rest of the way and made to leave, pausing by Crowley’s chair on her way out.  
  
“You don’t hurt him,” she said.  
  
“Not in any way he doesn’t explicitly ask for,” Crowley promised, hand over his heart.  
  
That must have been the right answer because she left without further comment, followed by three people- though one of them returned shortly, smelling strongly of the artificial cherry soap that only ever seemed to be used in public restrooms.  
  
Aziraphale was being fucked again, spitroasted between two men who had flipped him over on his back, his head dangling over the edge of the bench. Rhys was the one fucking his face, and he fucked it with the sort of roughness Crowley still had to ease himself into, no matter how much Aziraphale said he enjoyed it, no matter how much he was clearly enjoying it now. Rhys had his hands around Aziraphale’s throat, thrusting in so his balls slapped against Aziraphale’s face as the angel choked and gagged and tried to moan. Tom, the man fucking his cunt had switched out the average-sized beige dildo he’d strapped on earlier for a green one that was even longer and thicker, with little veins and ridges running along it. Aziraphale came three times before they’d finished, and then cleaned Tom’s strap-on with the same enthusiasm he’d cleaned Melissa’s. Rhys stood behind Tom as he did, fingers dipping beneath the harness to bring Tom off- though he was pretty sure Tom had come while fucking Aziraphale.  
  
“All good?” Rhys asked, once Tom had come.  
  
“Good,” Tom replied.  
  
Beneath him, Aziraphale hummed, mouth still full of green silicone.  
  
Another couple went next, David and Aaron.  
  
“Do you think you can take two at once?” Aaron asked.  
  
“Yes?” Aziraphale replied, sounding confused.  
  
His voice was getting rough now, from all the cocks he’d taken into his throat, which was why Crowley thought he was asking until David clarified “Not one at each end- two in the cunt.”  
  
“ _Oh,_ ” Aziraphale said, and Crowley marveled at how he said it: the surprise edging into delight edging into need ending in something which was not quite a moan. “Oh yes, please, I would enjoy that very much.”  
  
They pulled and pushed him around, and ended up with David laying flat on his back on the bench, Aziraphale straddling his hips with his plush thigh and being lowered onto his cock, Aaron pushing into him from behind.  
  
Aziraphale moaned, his eyes fluttering closed, his face a perfect picture of ecstasy.  
  
“I love how much you love this,” David told him fondly.  
  
“Such a perfect slut,” Aaron agreed, thrusting in a little as Aziraphale let out a little cry of pleasure. “It brightens everyone’s day when you come around.”  
  
Crowley could believe that. Aziraphale clearly loved sex the same way he loved his books and his food. It was a simple, uncomplicated joyous enthusiasm that only got more intense as people found ways to complicate them: new spices to try, new stories to tell, new toys to fuck him with. Crowley loved that about him, loved how he could get so lost in his own pleasure that he forgot all about the judgement of Heaven, and how much he feared it.  
  
David and Aaron went slowly. When Aziraphale came, it was teased out of him, and when he’d finished they were clearly not done with him by a long shot. Crowley didn’t blame them. It was fucking hot, hearing Aziraphale babble in sentence fragments about how good it felt to be so full.  
  
Eris, who had been leaning against the way with eir hand on eir cock, stepped forward.  
  
“How do you feel about something to suckle on, pet?” ey asked.  
  
Aziraphale actually wiggled in response, causing both the men inside of him to hiss as he managed to slide more deeply onto their cocks. “Oh, yes, please, please,” he said.  
  
So Eris stood just next to David’s head, and pulled Aziraphale’s head down onto eir cock.  
  
For a while that was it, David thrusting up and Aaron thrusting in and Eris pulling Aziraphale up and down the length of eir shaft, muffling all the happy noises he was clearly still trying to make. Ey came first, and then Aziraphale came again as he swallowed eir spend, and a few minutes later David came, followed by Aaron.  
  
Aziraphale was laid down on his stomach on the bench, panting.  
  
“Anyone else?” Crowley asked after a few minutes, though he was pretty sure the answer was no. “Or is it my turn?”  
  
The remaining humans looked at one another.  
  
“Go head, mate,” Eris told him.  
  
Crowley tossed em a two-fingered salute, and shucked off his trousers and pants in one go. He’d given himself a generously-sized cock for this: not half as big as he was capable of producing, and not large enough to seem disproportionate, but still pretty large. One of the humans let out a long, low whistle at the sight of it.  
  
He turned Aziraphale over gently, and lined himself up. From this angle he could see Aziraphale’s cunt clearly: how red and raw and sensitive it looked.  
  
“Ready, angel?” he asked.  
  
“Always,” Aziraphale said, canting his hips up towards him. “Always, Crowley, oh!”  
  
He pushed in with a long, smooth glide made possible by all the humans who’d been inside of him earlier tonight, the come they’d left behind, the way they’d made Aziraphale come so many times. He thumbed along Aziraphale’s clit. It was large and erect, the way humans seemed to expect from men with vaginas these days (though, half the blokes with vaginas that had been here tonight had called them their cocks), and the touch made Aziraphale shriek, so he did it again, rubbing in firm little circles until Aziraphale came, squirting, his cunt clenched around Crowley’s cock as he soaked the both of them.  
  
Crowley kissed him, and Aziraphale opened his mouth sweetly for him, letting him probe and lick the taste of the others out of his mouth.  
  
“Pretty angel,” Crowley cooed as he began to thrust: shallow, gentle thrust, for now. “My pretty, slutty angel.”  
  
“Yours,” Aziraphale gasped out. “Yours, Crowley, oh love, please.”  
  
That was why he wasn’t jealous of the others who had fucked him, tonight or any other night. It wasn’t just the boundaries Aziraphale had set, which reserved a few things for the two of them: it was the other things. Nobody else had been looked at with such adoration. Nobody else had been called _love_.  
  
“Crowley, Crowley, Crowley,” Aziraphale nearly sobbed as Crowley began to pick up the pace.  
  
Nobody else had had their name turned into a mantra as they fucked him. Crowley smirked, and nipped as his lips, and began rubbing at his clit again.  
  
Aziraphale came twice more, and then a third time with Crowley came, thanks to a little miracle that left the angel gasping and breathless. Crowley held him close as they caught their breath, his cock still sheathed inside of him.  
  
“Alright, show’s over,” Crowley said, pressing a kiss to Aziraphale’s temple. “I’m sure you’ll all get the call the next time he gets an itch I just can’t scratch on my own.”  
  
The others cleared out quickly. Anyone who was considering trying to get the last word in found the impulse suddenly disappeared.  
  
When the door closed behind the last of them, Crowley set aside his sunglasses, gently pulled out, and sank to his knees.  
  
“Crowley,” Aziraphale sighed.  
  
“Someone, angel, I thought I was going to discorporate with lust,” he said, holding Aziraphale’s legs wide open with a hand on each thigh.  
  
His cunt was dripping and red- the forbidden fruit, Crowley thought, and then nearly laughed at himself. It was pretty obviously not forbidden fruit at all. The fruit everyone was invited to partake in, more like. He licked along it, and Aziraphale shrieked again and squirmed.  
  
“Too much?” he asked innocently.  
  
“Yes,” Aziraphale groaned, but then added, almost panicking. “But good, green, please don’t stop.”  
  
Crowley grinned up at him. His tongue darted out, long and forked. “Oh, I’m not sssstopping, angel. Not until I’ve the only thing I can tassste in that ssslutty cunt of yoursss is yourself.”


End file.
